


Full Colour

by varianvs



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz (Two River Cast) Actor RPF, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Polyamory, Soulmates, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23665642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varianvs/pseuds/varianvs
Summary: Until you find your soulmate, the world exists in black and white. Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell are soulmates. They've never known a world without colour. Everything is as it should be. Or so they thought.
Relationships: Jake Dillinger & Rich Goranski, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell, Rich Goranski/Jeremy Heere, Rich Goranski/Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell, Rich Goranski/Michael Mell
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	1. Jeremy Heere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding your soulmate wasn't all that common. Jeremy Heere couldn't remember a world without colour. And he was bullied relentlessly for it.

Finding your soulmate wasn't all that common. Jeremy Heere couldn't remember a world without colour. And he was bullied relentlessly for it.

When people described their monochrome world, though, he almost felt like he could relate. The stories were always the same; the world was colourless, and then suddenly it was bright. Jeremy had met people who saw in colour. It was a connection between people in the same boat, after all, and they'd always love to gush about the world in ways they just couldn't with others. Something was always off, though. He'd noticed this fully one afternoon in a florist's shop. His dad was still searching, never found the one. And while the kind woman in the pale green apron described to him the bright reds and delicate whites of a particular arrangement, he noted that the colours weren't as she described at all. He hadn't quite had the words to describe what he was seeing then, but he knew that the red she gestured to was far from bright. It was washed out, rather, a dull watered down shade of whatever it was evidently supposed to be. He'd never had the heart to tell his dad.

It wasn't until almost a week later, in Michael's cozy basement bedroom, that he finally mentioned it. Michael Mell was Jeremy's soulmate. This had been a constant fact since kindergarten, when the concept was really introduced to them, and everyone was surprised to find that they had both seen in colour for as long as they could remember. It had never been a huge deal, really. In their freshman year of highschool, though, Michael had confessed that he didn't think they were platonic soulmates. Jeremy had never really had any other friends. He hadn't understood, or even had to consider, that the way he'd always felt towards Michael wasn't the same as friendship. So, naturally, it took him a little while to learn the difference, but he got there in the end. They had been dating ever since. Jeremy already knew that Michael saw just the same as him. Their conversation did little but confirm that was still the case, and spark an interest in them both. After a few hours of browsing the internet, though, their search turned up nothing. They agreed that they were content either way.

So it was a bit of a surprise for Jeremy when his vision changed.

Since starting highschool, Jeremy noticed that the attitude towards colour-seeing people changed among his peers. People became frustrated and hopeless, anxious at the possibility of never finding their soulmate. He'd always wondered what the rush was, but he knew he should stay in his lane. He'd never had the same experience, after all. As time went on, this frustration bubbled into more sinister feelings. Kids with soulmates became targets for bullying. There were wars taking place in the halls every day; people flaunting their colour-seeing statuses, stoking the fires of the monochrome kids' tempers. Jeremy refused to get involved. That didn't stop him from being tormented all the same. For him, though, one name among the infuriated mob of monochrome kids stood above the rest. Rich Goranski.  
Jeremy had never understood it, not really. Rich always went out of his way to pick on him, out of the thousands of other kids at the school. He'd noticed, though, that Rich was incredibly peculiar. He saw it in the way he picked on the other kids, sloppy and without intent. He saw it in the way his dull eyes seemed to hold a thinly veiled curiousity, a longing to know something he himself wasn't quite sure of. And Jeremy's might have been just the same, because he saw it in the way the light shifted for just a moment as they made eye contact across the battlefield, how for just a split second, the pale shade of the familiar hoodie at his side looked... Red.

Nothing was out of the ordinary when Jeremy ducked into the bathroom. Nothing seemed amiss as he made his way to the urinals. And there he was. Rich Goranski. Rich Goranski, who looked somewhat startled, but quickly covered it up.  
"What are you staring at?" His expressionless voice echoed slightly in the bathroom as he refocused his attention on what he was doing. When Jeremy didn't respond, he quickly finished up and whipped around, slamming the flush. "I'm talking to you, tallass."  
Jeremy hesitated for a moment, avoiding eye contact. "Why do you call me that?" He started, backing away. "I'm not even that tall."  
Rich huffed and made his way across to the sink, beginning to wash his hands. "Yeah, well, you could be, if you weren't hunched over and scared, uh... All the time." He sneered, leaning over to the next soap dispenser when the one closest failed to work. "You know, the only thing more pathetic is the way you're sneaking off into a stall to get away from me. Stalls are for girls. Are you a girl, Jeremy?"  
Jeremy sighed and turned around, and feeling brave, approached challengingly. "What's your problem with me, man? I—"  
Their eyes met, and they stood in silence for just a little too long, processing. The first thing Jeremy noticed was that Rich's eyes were green. But not green in a way he'd ever known. And on looking away, he was brought back to that florist shop. Suddenly everything made sense.


	2. Michael Mell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding your soulmate wasn't all that common. Michael Mell couldn't remember a world without colour. And frankly, nobody cared.

Finding your soulmate wasn't all that common. Michael Mell couldn't remember a world without colour. And frankly, nobody cared.

Michael had always known something was off. His moms were soulmates, after all, and it hadn't taken long for them to realise that the colours he saw were... Off. They'd figured it out over a family meal one evening, some bizarre pasta the name of which Michael was not interested in, covered in a pale coloured sauce. Michael, however, through his watered down colour vision, was unable to see the colour. Apparently it was supposed to be red. Pale red, but red nonetheless. It was on that night they discovered that he didn't even know the true colour of his favourite hoodie. They'd tried explaining it to him. He much preferred his version. Jeremy Heere was Michael's soulmate. They'd always been happy together. When they started dating, even more so. So, when it came down to it, Michael never felt the need to inform Jeremy that their colours were wonky. It suited him just fine. 

It was sometime towards the end of middle school when Jeremy shared that he knew. He, in great contrast to Michael, was concerned. So they stayed up late on a Thursday night, researching the possibility that this had happened before. It turned up nothing. Michael still didn't mind, and though he could sense a longing to know in Jeremy, he didn't seem to mind either. The summer between middle and highschool was swamped with Michael's realisation that he was gay. That, and trying to convince the colourblind cashier at Spencer's gifts that crystal pepsi was crystal pepsi regardless of your vision status. It was clear. That was literally the entire point. The realisation came after a fateful google search on the difference between romantic and platonic love after a night of reading up on soulmates, the curiousity of the colour malfunction never quite having left him, it was actually kind of cool, and a discussion with his moms about feelings he'd been wrestling with. By the time freshman year rolled around, he'd accepted his feelings for Jeremy. The confession was easy, like something he'd done a million times before. Jeremy had needed time to think on it, but he didn't mind. They were soulmates, after all. When Jeremy returned his feelings, he was content.

And he could never have expected for anything to change.

Michael was particularly skilled at remaining invisible. Despite the growing tensions at school, he'd never had much of a problem at all. He was, unapologetically, a loser. That suited him, and he appreciated how far down the social ladder it put him. That is, far enough that nobody noticed him. Jeremy, on the other hand, certainly wasn't so invisible. It never seemed to be serious enough to be genuinely concerned, just the overflowing venom of their jealous peers. It became increasingly obvious though, as Jeremy repeatedly pointed out, that one person had taken particular interest in his torment. Rich Goranski. A colourblind. Michael wasn't trying to start some sort of class war between the colourblind (or monochrome kids, as Jeremy preferred) and colour-seeing. He really wasn't. But if a colourblind was looking for trouble out of jealousy, he was sure as hell going to look down on them. So, despite the torment, Michael would never look him in the eye. He didn't deserve his attention, but his lingering gaze in the hallways definitely caught it.

That is, of course, until everything did change. He'd noticed from the moment he saw Jeremy approaching in the hallway, eyes darting around as if he'd never seen it before. Rich stood by the door of the bathroom, staring after him. Michael repressed the urge to tell him to piss off, to mind his own business, just this once. He looked... Small. Lost, even. Scared. And suddenly he was snapped out of his thoughts as Jeremy was grabbing his arm, demanding his attention. "We need to talk."  
At first he wasn't sure why he should care that Rich Goranski, his boyfriend's tormenter, had gained his colour vision. Good for him. Whatever. But then Jeremy crouched down in front of him, and their eyes met. "Your hoodie is red."  
He told himself he was fine. He wasn't scared, he wasn't upset. Still, he couldn't help the sickly feeling in his stomach. Was he not enough? Would Jeremy leave him for Rich? Was he even Jeremy's soulmate? But he'd quickly learned that Rich, too, was experiencing the mysterious washed-out vision he and Jeremy had their whole lives. He couldn't help being curious. Part of him wanted the answers. Most of all, though, he had to know why Jeremy was now seeing in full colour. 

So there he was, at 4pm in the school parking lot, half-sitting half-leaning on his car. Jeremy sat in the passenger seat, door left wide open. In front of them stood Rich. Michael had always had a particular image of how Rich was. He was an asshole, more than anything. Unlikeable. Evil. But here he was now, eyes bright despite their dull hue, rambling enthusiastically, with a billion and one questions. The violence in his posture had dissolved into something akin to nervousness as he bounced on his feet occasionally, trying and failing to divert the need to fidget and stim. And suddenly Michael couldn't bring himself to hate the guy. He didn't realise he'd been spacing out until Jeremy called his name, bringing his attention back to Rich, who'd stopped talking, and now watched him with concern. Their eyes met.  
For a moment, his eyes hurt. He watched Rich, in what felt like slow motion, flinch and grab his head. His gaze fell to his hands, the bright blue of his slushie, the dark red of his hoodie. He didn't even have time to think before he found himself glancing back up, Jeremy's surprised snicker distant in his ears. Rich didn't feel like such a threat anymore. And that suited him just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that my chapters are short I am?? Not a writer at all but sometimes you gotta take it upon yourself to create that sweet content


	3. Rich Goranski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding your soulmate wasn't all that common. Rich Goranski was convinced he would never see in colour. So, he bullied those who could relentlessly for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Implied abuse, implied su/cide attempt.

Finding your soulmate wasn't all that common. Rich Goranski was convinced he would never see in colour. So, he bullied those who could relentlessly for it.

Rich's dad was colourblind. His mother hadn't been. That's how he knew that soulmates weren't always... Well, mutual. She'd always told him stories. Stories about how magical it was to find your soulmate, about the colours, about the many shapes and sizes of soulmate relationships. When she left, his dad told him the opposite. Soulmates were bullshit. And when in elementary school his behavioural issues landed him in an office with some psychiatrist woman, and he was dragged out with a diagnosis he was far too young to understand, his dad had made sure he knew better than to try. Soulmates weren't for lost causes like him. When everyone around him began to sprout up and mature with puberty, he started to accept it.

He wasn't particularly proud of what he'd become. Not really. But when barely into the first semester of freshman year Jake Dillinger found him crouched behind the bleachers, soaked, reeking of gasoline and with a lighter in his hands, he couldn't have said no. A hug had been such a ridiculous concept to him at the time. Jake didn't have to stop him. He could have recorded the whole thing for clout. He definitely didn't have to start talking, or to care, and Rich was so overwhelmed by the simple act of someone caring that he could barely process what was happening as Jake dragged him back to his house, gently persuaded him to shower off the gasoline, let him borrow the softest yet most ridiculously oversized clothing he'd ever worn and then forced him to stay the night. Rich fell asleep that night with his head on Jake's shoulder. They'd never even had to discuss being best friends before it happened. So when they finally found the right moment to look into each other's eyes, really look, and nothing happened, neither of them would admit if they were disappointed. Nevertheless, they couldn't have been convinced they'd need anyone else. Rich was quick to join in Jake's mockery of colour-seeing people. At first he hadn't cared. Convinced he didn't have a soulmate, that only one person would ever truly care, it didn't bother Rich to make people's lives miserable for what he'd never have. He didn't even try that hard. If it made Jake happy, well... That is, until one of their regularly scheduled shitshows introduced him to Jeremy Heere.

"What are you staring at?" Rich would never have admitted how long he'd waited for this moment. To have Jeremy alone, to finally figure out just what it was about him. Admittedly, he hadn't been quite prepared for the location to be a highschool bathroom. He'd been Jeremy's bully for over a year now, so if he was feeling nervous, he wasn't planning on letting it show. Force would have to do. He finished up as quickly as he could, spun on his heel, and slammed the flush. "I'm talking to you, tallass."  
He noted how Jeremy avoided eye contact. Rich wished he knew what colour Jeremy's eyes were. They were a light shade of something, at least. "Why do you call me that? I'm not even that tall." The tall boy looked himself over, his dark grey curls falling over his face. He pushed them back.  
Rich huffed and made his way across to the sink, beginning to wash his hands. "Yeah, well, you could be, if you weren't hunched over and scared, uh... All the time." He sneered, leaning over to the next soap dispenser when the one closest failed to work. He tried not to think about where all the soap was going. "You know, the only thing more pathetic is the way you're sneaking off into a stall to get away from me. Stalls are for... girls. Are you a girl, Jeremy?" If Rich had ever been more ashamed of himself, he couldn't recall. That was low. What had he become?  
Jeremy loudly sighed and turned around. Rich was surprised by his sudden bravery as he moved closer. "What's your problem with me, man? I—"  
The beginnings of a cocky grin fell from Rich's face as he met Jeremy's eyes. Blue.

The next fifteen minutes were filled with a lot of extended silences. Jeremy had gone into a stall. He sat on the closed toilet lid with the stall door open, legs pulled up against his chest. Rich leaned back against the edge of the sink. Neither of them could recall much of what was said, the shock blurring their focus. Jeremy had tried to explain his partial colour vision. It made just enough sense for them to identify that Rich was experiencing the same. He'd known that everyone's experience of soulmates was different, but now he was left wondering. Was there something wrong with him?  
And then Jeremy had taken him by the hand and lead him outside, explaining something about his soulmate. Michael. Of course. Rich watched Jeremy practically stumble through the hall towards him, just as fascinated by his surroundings as Rich was. He'd grabbed Michael by the arm, and Rich was left on his own.

The rest of the day was just as much of a blur. At some point, as he dragged himself to his next class, running more on instinct than knowledge of where he was going, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even seen Jake coming, but from the concern on his face, he must have missed something. Jake ended up dragging him out of the school and into his car. They spent the entire period there, Jake talking to fill the silence, struggling to keep Rich from spacing out. Rich noted how much different Jake looked in colour.  
Eventually he was able to focus enough to process what Jake was saying. So Rich found himself explaining to Jake, who hated colour-seeing people, that he could now see in half-colour. If jealousy flashed across Jake's features, Rich hadn't seen it.  
He took it quite well. Rich even got a hug out of him. They'd wasted the entire rest of the day, in the end, but neither really objected to that. By the time the final bell rang, they sat in comfortable silence, music playing quietly on the car radio. Rich's phone buzzed.

**Unknown number:** Meet us in the parking lot. Red PT Cruiser. Can't miss it.

Part of him was relieved that Jeremy hadn't entirely abandoned him, even if he had forgotten that Rich didn't have the slightest idea which colour was red. He stopped fidgeting with his sleeve and looked up, opening his mouth to speak. Jake cut him off. "Yeah. I have to get to practice anyway." Just as easily as the past hundred times, they climbed out of the car and parted ways. Jake paused before Rich had gotten very far, though.  
"Hey, Rich?"  
"Yeah?"  
The shorter boy turned on the spot. Jake seemed to hesitate, then waved dismissively.  
"Nevermind. See you tomorrow."  
He ran off before he could be late, waving a quick goodbye. Rich lingered for a moment.

And that's how Rich ended up stood beside Michael Mell's shitty PT Cruiser in the school parking lot, Michael half-sitting half-standing, the most seemingly uncomfortable position ever, while Jeremy sat sideways on the passenger seat with his legs swinging out of the open door. Rich had seen his car before. It looked like the kind of car that they used for funerals, in his opinion. Tragic. Michael saw in half-colour, the same way Jeremy had until they met in the bathroom earlier. The same way Rich did now. Rich had a million questions for him. And while something about Michael's gaze made him feel so much smaller than usual, he found himself talking freely. It felt... natural. He caught Jeremy's eye, and suddenly he didn't feel quite so anxious anymore.  
He talked for longer than he intended to. Rambling tended to be inevitable when he got a little too comfortable. He might not have stopped, either, if it weren't for the distant look in Michael's eyes cutting him off mid-sentence. When he didn't react to the end of his rambling, Rich looked to Jeremy for help.  
"Michael?" Jeremy's voice when talking to Michael had a softness Rich hadn't heard before. He liked that, he noted, turning his attention back to Michael, who'd since hummed in response. Right as Rich was about to address him with a surely inappropriate joke, Michael met his eyes for the first time he'd ever been aware of. A sharp pain filled his head. His hand shot up and tugged at his hair before his brain could even begin to catch up, Jeremy's short laugh catching his attention. He took a step back, observing. Jeremy had stood up and now half-hung over the top of the car door, attention shifting between him and Michael. Michael now stared down at the slushie in his hands, visibly dazed. They were both so goddamn bright.


	4. And that makes three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They decide to spend some time together.

The first time they spent time together, officially, came only a few days after Michael and Jeremy sat in the kitchen of the Heere household, explaining to Jeremy's dad the bizarre events that had unfolded. They both noted how the whole experience had felt overwhelmingly like their respective coming out, so much so that the fear of a negative response loomed over them. Mr Heere, however, was ecstatic, and immediately wanted to meet the third boy.  
In the time between, Jeremy would be asked endless questions. Everything from his appearance to his interests to everything he just didn't know. He was quick to correct when Rich was addressed as his boyfriend. They weren't like that. They'd barely even talked for more than an hour. Even so, he wasn't exactly subtle in hiding a lopsided grin when his phone lit up.

It was Friday afternoon when, as per usual, the door flew open and two familiar voices in the midst of a debate about some strange new indie game brought the house to life. As Mr Heere emerged to greet them, though, he noticed a third, shorter boy. At first glance, he seemed like a boy who should have a strong personality. His appearance practically screamed confidence. Popularity. Jock? For some reason, though, he seemed nervous. He allowed himself to be all but dragged into the house by Michael, offering Jeremy a weak smile as his attention darted back and forth, following their dialogue. And then they made eye contact. Jeremy jumped into action, stammering out a quick greeting before continuing.   
"Dad, this is Rich."   
Rich moved to give a wave, visibly questioned himself, then spoke. "Nice to... to meet you, Mr Heere." He barely managed to finish before being interrupted by Michael's laughter at his formality, dragging him up the stairs. Jeremy lingered for a moment until his dad gestured for him to join them. Formal introductions could wait.

When Jeremy entered his room, Michael had already made himself comfortable. Rich was still on edge. Everything so far had been so rapid, it was no surprise if there was an atmosphere of anxiety among them. Michael stretched his arms above his head.  
"So... Rich." The boy in question nodded a little too hard at the mention of his name. "You obviously don't know a ton about video games. What kind of stuff are you interested in?" An expectant silence fell over the room. Rich was putting a lot of thought into this, stumbling over vague stalling noises, until Jeremy couldn't help but laugh. Rich looked alarmed for a moment, and Jeremy waved his hands as if in denial. "Michael does that all the time." At hearing his name, Michael shot Jeremy a playful glare. "He has a billion interests, but he couldn't name a single one if you put him on the spot." The two exchanged a teasing look, and Rich smiled awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. Jeremy cut in again before he had to. "Oh, our new cards against humanity expansion pack arrived yesterday! We should totally play!" And so they did.

Rich became much less of a mystery over the course of their several rounds. If Jeremy had felt terribly innocent in comparison to Michael, there was no doubt about it now. Michael loved it. It was in the middle of the two laughing hysterically over a distasteful joke Rich had made about an unfortunate outcome of childbirth that Jeremy, still flustered from a series of unspeakable jokes about his own sexual fantasies, realised how late it had gotten. He glanced up from the time on his phone screen to the obnoxiously loud boys in front of him. Sometimes Michael could be a lot. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't hesitant to have them both in the same room. In fact, he'd spent most of the school day wrestling with his own anxiety about how this would play out. Now he was just wondering what he'd ever been so worried about. He watched them awkwardly attempt to wrestle each other over some new crude joke without disturbing the cards laid out on the bed between them. Something about this just felt... Right. He felt a small smile grow on his face as he pulled his eyes away, returning to his phone.

_**To Dad:**_ Can Rich stay the night too?

They ended up ordering pizza at 10pm. 24/7 pizza joints were a blessing. It arrived at almost 11, by which time they'd already started into a game of Monopoly. Cheaters Edition, naturally. Michael was practically a billionaire in Monopoly cash, and Rich had yet to be caught cheating at all. He was low on funds, but with the houses building up, that wasn't likely to last. Jeremy was losing. Miserably.  
Three teenage boys hyped up on sugar, half of which was 20 years past it's expiry date, at almost midnight probably weren't the target audience for a family board game. It didn't take long for them to incorporate a weird version of truth or dare into getting caught cheating, which ended with Jeremy daring Michael to hand over his hoodie. No amount of embarrassing antics he could challenge Jeremy to would compare. And when they finally grew bored of their seemingly endless game of Monopoly, Rich started up a debate about Michael's crystal pepsi, which Rich was not convinced really tasted like ghosts. He stood up to go check his phone, but never ended up moving from where he stood.

Michael got incredibly passionate about his expired pepsi. Rich could've sworn he'd seen the now hoodie-less boy's pupils dilate at the mention of it. Jeremy had clearly been roped into this debate a million times before, from the exasperation on his face. Something about it said he might kill his boyfriend tonight. But Michael kept talking, swatting away Jeremy's attacks of protest, all while Rich listened intently. He couldn't quite help the adoration creeping up on him, wherever that came from. Maybe he was just relieved someone else could talk so passionately about something that seemed so mundane. Maybe he just appreciated not feeling alone. He hadn't even noticed himself shuffling closer until he'd grabbed Michael's shoulders, laughing out some half-assed joke about the ghosts getting to his head, and Michael was looking up at him in near-surprise from where he sat on the floor. And then his expression changed.

Michael wasn't quite sure what came over him, but suddenly he was pulling Rich down, and— Thump.  
"Ah—" "Shit, are you okay?" There was a pause before Rich breathed out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm fine. What was that for?" Michael didn't know. No, scratch that, he did. He was familiar with this feeling. One he'd felt for years before, and one he still felt everytime he looked at his boyfriend. Even now, seeing his confused features scanning his own in the low light, messy curls fallen over his face, the trace of a lopsided smirk still on his lips as he snuggled into the fabric of Michael's hoodie, way too big for his thin build. But he also felt it when his eyes drifted to the boy pulling himself from the floor in front of him, bright green eyes still dazzled by every colour he thought he'd never see, the small concerned smile on his face making Michael question if the memory of his cruel smirk had only been some horrible dream. Michael had no idea what he was doing, but he knew what he had to. He leaned forward, grabbing Rich by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him in. He could feel the hesitation, the uncertain glance exchanged between him and Jeremy, and then Rich all but melted into the kiss, hands finding their way around Michael's neck. They pulled apart slowly, uncertainly. There was a hint of guilt in how Rich looked at him now, eager and gentle but... Afraid, almost. That's when he turned to look at Jeremy, Rich following suit, the shorter boy tensing almost immediately. Jeremy was blushing, visibly flustered, and— Oh no.  
"Jeremy, is that a—"

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more :)


End file.
